


the company we choose

by Ingu



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, Driving, Humor, Immaturity, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6651073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingu/pseuds/Ingu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A favor redeemed by an old friend leads to the beginnings of a very odd relationship. Hux is not qualified to be a driving instructor, much less a therapist. But a debt is a debt, even if his student has apparently literally killed a man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the company we choose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starshaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshaker/gifts).



> This is a fill for the prompt: 'Driving instructor Hux, and bad student kylo'. And I'm not sure what to call this aside from an offbeat... romantic comedy? and a road trip fic about two assholes with daddy issues that doesn't actually include a road trip. Everything is actually Phasma's fault. 
> 
> Also, this fill turned out to be a lot more melancholy than I had intended for it to be. Apologies for the AU induced OOCness. I hope you enjoy!

As a personal rule, Hux takes care to avoid incurring personal debts. He hates the uncertainty behind an open promise unfulfilled, the inability to know for certain whether a predetermined action will help or hinder you. In the end, it means that the rare favor he does end up owing to certain acquaintances end up hoarded, bought and sold like black market gold by his minions inside the company. There is something very reassuring, perhaps, behind having the influence of the CEO in your arsenal when fighting to survive in the cut-throat corporate world.

And that is why, with this conceit that is probably not entirely undeserved, Hux never expected this outcome when Phasma – his fearsome, terrifyingly capable head of HR – redeemed a favor earned two months previous. On a Thursday evening, she had stopped by his office right before he left, and handed him a piece of paper, citing a promise made when he had been looking for excuses to fire a troublesome executive.

_Place: Burke Street Parking Lot, space 017_

_Time: 0930 Sunday 23 rd_

The situation on the day is this:

Hux stands atop the concrete in the morning sun, dressed in jeans and a dark sweater, and stares at a beat up piece of grey junk that looks older than he is. A man he has just met stands stooped and sullen behind him, wearing a scowl and a leather jacket. There’s a jagged scar running from his temple to his jawline. His name, he said, is Kylo Ren, and he is stunning with his intense gaze and wild black hair. 

“So she told you I’d teach you how to drive,” Hux says, doing his best to ignore the other man’s looming presence as he tries to figure out if it would actually be safe to get into the car that looks like a recycled prop from a post-apocalyptic movie set. He doesn’t know what Phasma was thinking, loaning him out to a stranger without asking if Hux would be okay with the commitment. Hux could be shopping for new furniture, he could be visiting his sick father, he could be playing with Millicent right now. If this is an attempt to kill him and take the CEO position for herself then it’s awfully complicated.

“Yes,” the man says stiffly. “Is there a problem or do you want to get started?”

A part of Hux wants to offer his own car, a vehicle he at least knows comes with air bags and a history of regular maintenance. Another part of him doesn’t want to go through the stress of repairs and insurance claims when Ren’s inexperience leads to an inevitable scrape or crash.

“No, let’s do this,” Hux says, taking a deep breath. A debt is a debt, and Hux would rather pay his off sooner than later.

Before the words are even out of Hux’s mouth, Ren is moving past him and pulling open the driver’s side door. He folds himself into his seat just as Hux makes it to the opposite side, and once he is inside, Hux finds a dusty interior, the plastic of the dash faded and cracked. The scratchy fabric holding together the seat has already been worn through, and yellow stuffing pokes out from odd places.

But at the very least, the car comes with seat belts. Hux pulls it across his chest, sliding it into the lock with a click, and turns toward Ren, who is already stuffing the keys into the ignition. He’s about to begin an explanation of the basics when Ren starts the car without a word, shifts gears, and slowly pulls out of the parking space with one, two, three violent jolts. Hux’s hand flies out to steady himself.

They inch down the parking lot in a straight line, the car’s engine rattling in an unsettling way.

“You seem to know the basics,” Hux says when Kylo makes no attempt to speak.

“I do.”

“You’ve had lessons?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to your last instructor?”

“I killed him.”

And that is how Hux and Kylo Ren first meet.

 

-

 

Hux’s opportunity to grill Phasma about the entire incident comes at lunchtime the day after, inside a cozy little Italian restaurant two blocks from their office.

“So, how was the first lesson?” Phasma, who never answered Hux’s strongly worded text about trapping him in an enclosed space with some sort of homicidal maniac, dares to ask with a smile. Hux pokes his fork into his spaghetti and twirls, looking up with a glare that has no effect whatsoever on his best friend of many years.

“He told me he killed his last instructor.” They’d spent an hour together mostly in uncomfortable silence, as Ren looped round and round the parking lot at a snail’s pace, avoiding other cars by a mile.

Phasma scoops a spoonful of gnocchi and hums. “I see he’s being his usual charming self. You should have some pity on the guy.”

“Wait, you’re saying he was serious?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to have to ask him about it. It’s not my place to discuss.”

Speechless, Hux chews on his food, and then reaches for the pepper mill.

“What do you think of Kylo?”

Hux’s mind is still stuck on the ‘actually killed someone’ stage of the conversation as he grinds some more pepper into the sauce. Was it an accident? It has to be. Was it… on purpose? His memory supplies a vivid image of Kylo’s scar, and suddenly the possibility of dying in that retired stunt car becomes alarmingly plausible. “He seems… fine. A little intense, but...”

“Did you actually talk to him?”

“He wasn’t that interested in small talk.”

Phasma nods. “He’ll probably warm up to you. Ask him about his grandfather, he loves his grandfather.”

“I… Why am I the one who has to teach him all this? You could have asked for anything, you could have asked for a raise.”

“Look, I pulled sixteen hours with you looking for a hole in that asshole’s contract,” Phasma says, waving her spoon dangerously. “I’m not letting you get away with just sending off a few e-mails. Besides, Kylo is a good guy, he needs the help, and you could use someone to talk to that isn’t your cat.”

Hux’s mouth falls open, and his eyes narrow as suspicion takes root. “Are you… Are you trying to set me up with your friend? Is this what this is about?”

“No. Never,” Phasma replies, deadpan in between bites of gnocchi. “Why? Do you find him attractive?”

Maybe. Kylo Ren is tall, built, and with his dark hair, pouting lips, and eyes that you could fall into if you stared for too long, he might just be exactly Hux’s type. “That is not the point. I can’t believe you’re using my favor to try and make me date your killer friend. How do you even know him? Who is he? Does he even have a job?”

“We go to the same gym.” Phasma shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee. “And I’m telling you, he’s not a bad guy. Ex-military. A little damaged, perhaps, but who isn’t these days? Just get to know him a little.”

“I told you I don’t want a relationship.” He has an entire company to run, and barely has time for a social life, much less a boyfriend. Technically he doesn’t even have time for this lunch with Phasma, but it was either this or meeting a slimy VP from a partner company and Hux does not have the strength to pull through another round of unwanted advances today.

“Actually,” Phasma says, cocking her head, “you told me you don’t want to die alone with your cat.”

“I was drunk!” Hux declares immediately. “You can’t hold someone accountable for the shit they say after they’ve had six glasses of wine.”

“So you don’t actually want them to turn that terrible Starbucks across the street into a cat café?”

“Phasma,” Hux growls.

She laughs softly, and he sighs.

“Look, I’ll help your friend get his license, but that’s it.”

“Okay, that’s fine. If you don’t want a relationship then just don’t get in one.”

“I mean it.”

“Of course.”

Phasma doesn’t sound like she believes him.

 

-

 

 

Hux tells himself he should cancel, that he should call a driving school and find Kylo Ren a proper instructor even if it means he’d have to pay. And yet, that Sunday sees Hux back in the deathtrap of a car, staring in concern at Ren’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. They’ve made the step toward driving on the road, and a glance at the dashboard tells Hux they’re going twenty miles under the forty-mile speed limit. There are at least three cars behind them on the single lane road, tailgating out of sheer frustration if nothing else.

“Turn into the side street here,” Hux says as they approach an intersection, hoping to free the trapped vehicles. “I said turn-”

Ren ignores him and drives straight through the green lights. Only one of the three cars takes the opening and escapes. Hux twists in his seat and watches it turn. Sighing, he goes back to staring out the windshield. 

“You order people around for a living?” Kylo says.

“And what exactly do _you_ do for a living?” Hux replies instead of answering. Despite Phasma’s encouragements, Kylo is about as talkative and cooperative as a rival board, and Hux isn’t even attempting a hostile takeover. He feels less uncomfortable sitting across the negotiation table from hostile suits intent on tearing apart his business.

Then, Hux revisits the comparisons he just came up with, and realizes he probably does need this prescribed break in his schedule after all.

“I run a mid-sized logistics company started by my father.”

“Really?” Hux blinks, impressed.

“No, I’m a bartender.”

“Oh.” That actually makes more sense. “Where at?”

“Starkiller.”

“The…” Gay nightclub? Hux wants to ask, though he’s sure it doesn’t mean anything for Ren to work there.

“It’s a LGBT nightclub,” Ren says, seemingly reading his mind.

Hux glances across the car, and decides not to mention the fact that it’s a nightclub he happens to own. “Do you like working there?”

“It tips well, especially if you do your work without a shirt. Glitter helps.”

“Great,” Hux says, losing his train of thought to the sudden image of Ren, shirtless and doused in glitter. Just from what he can see of Ren’s biceps he knows that what’s hiding underneath can’t be bad. “I’ve never seen you there.”

Ren glances at him without expression. “You go there often?”

“Just that one,” Hux says. Because he owns it, not that Ren really needs to know.

“So you’re gay.”

“What? No. I’m not.”

“So you’re just exploiting them for attention?”

 _Of all the-_ Indignant rage surges forward at the accusation. “I’m bisexual,” Hux snaps.

“Okay.”

Talking to Kylo Ren is like smacking your head into a brick wall, and about as equally amusing, Hux concludes. Why is he even trying? Because Phasma insists he’s a good guy?

“So you’re single?” Ren says out of the blue.

“What I am is none of your business.”

The road they’re on seems never-ending, and it’s only when Hux glances at the time that he realizes they’ve been driving in a straight line for almost fifty minutes. The traffic around their tiny vehicle is starting to pick up, and a road sign looms before them, warning them they’re near the edge of the city.

“Turn around,” Hux says.

“I don’t know how.”

 

-

 

In that moment, Hux is reminded that he isn’t a qualified driving instructor. He makes Ren pull over and turns the car around himself, half convinced his ‘student’ is just messing with him for the hell of it. He has no idea how much he needs to teach Ren, or just how much Ren already knows. He doesn’t even know if Ren really needs lessons, or if he had inadvertently offended Phasma and this is her chosen form of payback.

Each day, he returns to his apartment exhausted, his mind already on the work he has waiting for him next morning. His Sundays are different now that he has to take an hour out to sit in a claustrophobic space with a strange, attractive man he doesn’t understand. But it is no less mentally draining than spending ten hours at work, trying to douse fires that can burn down an entire corporation.

Millicent is nowhere to be seen when Hux makes it through the door, and he makes a beeline for the fridge, pouring himself a tall glass of chilled water. He takes a deep breath and gulps down half the cup, grimacing at the burning cold.

Hux sets the half empty glass down on the counter, and takes a deep breath, drinking in the silence around him.

Ren is never the most talkative companion, and their ‘sessions’ so far have mostly comprised quiet moments that come with a lack of communication. But when Hux is by himself, the quiet feels more complete somehow, more hollow, even when he can hear the distant hum of traffic from far below.

He walks through the rooms, looking for his cat, suddenly hyperaware of the empty spaces, the rooms and beds untouched. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to get a penthouse apartment that matched his newfound status. Now, it just feels like a moment of selfish rebellion, impractical and thoughtless.

No wonder Phasma decided he needs some sort of company.

Hux hears a meow in his temporary storage room, and finds his ginger cat lounging in an empty packing box he never got around to recycling. He lifts Millicent from its depths, and then fetches her favorite toy. Then he spends twenty minutes playing with his cat, teasing her with a toy mouse until Millicent loses interest and vanishes into the depths of the house again.

Hux exercises and showers while listening to his favorite podcasts. After that, he fills a small watering can, and waters his plants along the window.

At night he heats leftover takeaway from the fridge, and eats it while looking over emails he received during the day. None of them are urgent, but he still takes the time to reply to a few inquiries, and makes a few calls, setting up meetings and directing everything that will happen during the week to come.

Afterward, he curls in his bed, and stares at the darkness until he finally falls asleep.

 

-

 

 

Ren, objectively speaking, is a terrible student. Though to be fair, Hux barely knows what he’s doing either. He had been trained in management and commerce, not in training uncooperative bartenders how to drive a stick-shift.

It’s the third week of their acquaintance, and he’s once again back in the car. The traffic lights above them turns green, and Ren stalls the car once, then a second time. Hux remembers his own learning experience (with a trained instructor in a modified car), and thinks he never made it this hard. He’d even passed his exam on the first try.

“Ease off the clutch and press down the gas at the _same time_.”

“I know what to do,” Ren grumbles, turning on the ignition again.

“You need to do it slowly or you’re going to-”

The car jolts violently, and the engine sputters out.

“Stall the engine again,” Hux sighs, wanting to bang his head against the nearest hard surface.

The car behind them honks, and Ren sticks his head out the window and waves one arm wildly, shouting something obscene. In response, the vehicle abruptly pulls into the oncoming lane and accelerates past them, Hux catches a glimpse of a middle finger, thrust in their direction.

“Get out,” Hux sighs. “I’ll move it.”

“No, I got this.”

After another two aborted attempts, they finally chug off just as the light switches from green to yellow.

“Why do you keep driving this hunk of junk anyway?” Hux says, feeling petty and irritated. Being with Ren is an exercise in frustration, and the man’s behavior makes Hux feel all of sixteen years old again, living a life of petty grudges and unspeakable angst.

“It was my father’s.”

Something in Ren’s tone, in his choice of past tense, shuts Hux up.

 

-

 

Somehow, parents always seem to become an eternal factor in a person’s life, inescapable, unavoidable, whether in life or in death. On a Saturday afternoon Hux sits at his father’s bedside, staring at the old man’s unresponsive form. The man is at the end of his life, his organs failing under the torment of disease. He spends little of his time awake, and even less of it coherent.

Hux visits regularly, though he does so more out of obligation than any genuine interest in the old man’s welfare. His father had been callous and abusive, his only interest in his son related to what his child’s accomplishments may do for his vainglory. There are too many things they’ve each said and done to shape a relationship that will never be repairable.

And yet, here he sits, at the bedside of a man he’s sworn he will never forgive, thinking about death and loss and everything in between. The man had once been so tall, so proud and unforgiving, and yet now, illness has reduced him to little more than a hollow shell, slowly waiting out his life’s end. He thinks about Ren, and wonders if his relationship with his father was something more beautiful, for Ren to be so attached to an ancient vehicle. Yet it’s useless, ultimately, to compare yourself to speculation.

Hux doesn’t even know what he’s doing here, and who he’s doing it for.

 

-

 

By their sixth session, Ren is confident enough to drive at the speed limit, if not over it. The radio is switched to some top 40 station as they head in a direction Hux has never explored, and Ren’s singing along to a rock song Hux is only hearing for the first time. Ren’s voice is surprisingly pleasant, a low rumbling bass-baritone, and Hux leans back in his seat, staring out at the passing street scenery while he pretends he isn’t enjoying himself.

A drum solo commences and Ren thumps the steering wheel in time to the beat.

“Hands on the wheel,” Hux says.

Ren grumbles, but does as he’s told.

Appeased, Hux returns to looking out the window, studying the shops and houses they pass by. He’s never been to this part of the city before, and everything feels new yet familiar all at the same time. The same names and signs in odd configurations, scattered among people and places he will never remember again after this moment.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Ren says.

“Ask what?” Hux’s gaze drifts from a shop sign declaring ‘ _New Horizon’_ toward a little boy holding his father’s hand.

“What exactly do you do?”

Now that Hux thinks about it, they’ve never actually had this conversation properly. “I’m a corporate executive.”

“Huh.” A short silence follows. “Explains why you never actually do any instructing.”

“Fuck you too, Ren.”

The light ahead switches from green to red, and the car in front of them begins to slow.

“It’s just, you’re supposed to be my driving instructor, aren’t you? But all you do is sit there and sulk.”

“I don’t-” They’re not braking, and Hux grows more and more alarmed with each foot that closes between them and the car ahead. When he looks across the car Ren is staring at him with a grin, oblivious.

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Watch out!”

Ren turns and slams on the brakes as he finally catches sight of the stationary car ahead, and Hux feels the seat belt snap tight against his chest as he is thrown forward. They skid to a stop with a loud screech, and when the car finally settles, Hux is staring in front of him at the vehicle he’s almost certain they had just rear-ended.

Ahead, the driver is already climbing from her car, striding furiously toward them. Hux and Ren exchange a glance and scramble to get out.

Hux makes it to the front, and when proximity reveals that there is still less than half an inch of space between the two cars, relief crashes over him. He looks up, and Kylo is staring at the gap, wide eyed. The woman huffs before either of them can get a word out, mumbling about luck and idiots as she returns to her vehicle. Barely a minute later, the car takes off, and Hux and Kylo are left stare at each other, slightly traumatized by the incident.

The car behind them honks, snapping them from the moment.

They hurry back into the car, and Ren takes off again, this time, they sit together in subdued silence.

“You need to be more careful. Keep your eye on the road,” Hux says.

“Yeah.”

For a long time, neither of them speak, and a bubbly female voice sings about true love on the radio.

“Do you want a milkshake?” Ren says.

Hux lets out a slow breath. “Sure.”

 

-

 

They pull into the parking lot of a burger joint, and Hux is treated to the sight of Ren trying to close the car door three times before it finally stays shut. The walk to the front door is short, and they enter the restaurant one after the other, settling into a booth by the window.

Before long, Ren is devouring the biggest burger Hux has ever seen, his plate filled with fries and onion rings. An enormous cup of cola sits by his arm.

“You want to know how I killed my last driving instructor?” Ren asks in between bites, a disturbing gleam in his eyes.

“I suppose?” Hux says, sucking at his straw. The milkshakes here have turned out to be quite nice.

“We were in the car, and then we got into an argument, I stopped paying attention to the road, and when the road suddenly stopped being straight I turned too late and we swerved off the road.”

“Oh.” The clumsy way Ren tells it, it sounds like some mild accident, one where everyone walked away with little more than a nasty bruise and a bad story. Yet Hux knows that behind it all there is blood, and loss. There is a tremor in Ren’s hands and his gaze is unsteady.

“So now I have to re-learn how to drive,” Ren continues, nonchalant, before taking another giant bite of his burger.

“How long ago did it happen?”

“Fourteen years ago? But I’m over it now.”

Hux studies Ren and his downcast gaze, looking more interested in his food than in anything Hux might have to say. He remembers Ren’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and says nothing, opting instead to steal one of Ren’s fries.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He dips it in the ketchup and puts it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“Don’t worry about it.” There’s sauce on Ren’s lips, and Hux looks away, focusing on the sweet vanilla taste of his milkshake.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” Ren says, almost as an afterthought.

Hux blinks, and he doesn’t know how to respond.

 

-

 

Only a few days later, Hux’s phone starts buzzing at 2am on a Wednesday night. He jolts awake at the sound, and clumsily paws for his phone from his bed, grabbing it from the nightstand. The display is painfully bright, and Hux squints at the name Kylo Ren written across it, before tapping to answer.

“Hello?” he says, his voice scratchy from sleep.

“I need you over here right away,” Ren’s voice is clipped and urgent, and worry ignites inside of Hux.

“What happened?” Hux mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Just come to my apartment.”

Ren rattles off an address Hux struggles to memorize, and then he waits a full ten seconds before he registers the ensuing silence as something suspicious. He pulls the phone away from his ear, and finds that the bastard had hung up on him. With a sigh, Hux climbs out of bed and reaches for his clothes.

He drives to Ren’s address in a state of growing panic, unsure just what sort of emergency situation the man has gotten himself into. Was he robbed? Is he sick? Did he kill someone else? By the time he arrives fifteen minutes later at the bottom of a surprisingly modern and expensive apartment complex, his heart is racing in his chest.

Instead of police lights or an ambulance, he finds Ren waiting on the street, arms crossed, leaning against his father’s beat-down vehicle.

“Get in,” Ren says when Hux is standing in front of him in shock, “I don’t have time this Sunday to practice.”

Hux can’t fucking believe it. “You called me here in the middle of the night just so I can sit in the car with you while you drive?”

“You _are_ my instructor.”

Hux had made up his mind to turn around and drive straight back home when he takes a second look at Ren, and notices the tight line of his shoulders, and the way his breaths seem to be coming a little too quickly. Ren stares at his car like it holds his shame, his hope, and the answer to the mystery of existence. There’s something more going on than Hux can explain, and he doesn’t know if it’s something he should enable.

His gaze drifts to the car, and his resolve slips away.

“Fine,” Hux says.

Kylo’s head snaps in his direction, looking as surprised as Hux feels at the fact that he hasn’t refused. Then, he reaches for the car door like he’s afraid Hux will change his mind, and tugs it open too fast.

Hux sighs. Why not see this ridiculous thing through?

They get into the car, and Ren pulls into the road. By now he should have enough confidence in his driving, and yet his mouth is set in a grim line, and his gaze skittish and uncertain.

Hux glances at the ancient stereo and twists the knob to turn on the radio. A delicate piano melody emerges, sounding beneath a synthesizer and a haunting female voice. Ren glances at him, and Hux pulls his coat tighter around himself, settling against the side of the vehicle, and stares out at the glowing streetlights that pass by.

“You never give me any instructions,” Ren says.

“Do I really need to?” Hux replies. “You already know how to drive, and we only ever go where you want to.”

From day one, Hux has never truly gotten a word in when telling Ren where to go and how to do something. The man’s skills were rusty, perhaps, but it’s more due to a lack of practice than a lack of expertise. Ren knows exactly how to manage a vehicle, from checking every mirror before merging to keeping his hands solidly at ten and two. But for reasons only he could truly understand, Ren doesn’t believe it of himself.

“Is it the accident?” Hux asks on a whim, he can’t see Kylo from this angle, in the dark.

“Why?” There’s amusement in Kylo’s tone. “Are you afraid I’d kill you too?”

Not quite. Hux’s eyes are heavy, and he lets it slip closed, if only to avoid Kylo’s judgement. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Kylo says. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

 

-

 

Hux falls asleep to the rumble and grind of spinning wheels along the road, and wakes up to an idling engine. They’ve stopped on the side of a street he doesn’t recognize, and the faint neon light from a grocery shop glows softly nearby. The sky is growing pale with dawn, and Ren stares at his hands on the steering wheel, eyes empty.

For a long time, Hux watches, silent. Kylo does not move.

“Want me to drive?” Hux says quietly.

Kylo’s head turns toward him only a tiny fraction, enough to show that he heard him. He blinks, and sits silent for a moment longer before he takes a deep breath, sniffling.

“No, it’s fine.” He changes gears again, and they slowly pull away from the curb.

There’s something about the twilight that strips away the confines of reality, and Hux finds himself staring at Kylo’s profile through his lashes, analyzing the angles of his cheekbones, his jaw, the curve of his lips and the line of his nose. He feels the soft thrum of desire in his veins, a quiet yearning that’s always existed beneath the surface but he has never thought to acknowledge. They’re so wildly different, the two of them, it makes no sense for something like this to happen in Hux’s world of logic and rules and predictability.

Perhaps it’s the pale light of an invisible sun, perhaps it is his exhaustion, or perhaps it’s just Hux, admitting to himself a truth he has always known.

But wanting someone imperfect suddenly makes perfect sense when it’s Kylo Ren.

 

-

 

That afternoon at work, Hux stares blankly at his computer screen, trying to think through the numbness in his skull. He reads the same sentence three times and still makes no sense of what it’s trying to say.

“Sir?” A hesitant knock at the door pulls his attention away from the report. Mitaka is standing at the door, looking at him with a hint of worry in his expression. “The strategy meeting starts in five minutes.”

“Right,” Hux offers his assistant a tired smile. “Thank you for the reminder.”

Mitaka nods, and vanishes again toward his desk.

Two minutes later, Hux’s phone buzzes with a text from Phasma.

_‘Late’ night last night?_

There’s a string of suggestive emojis following the text. Hux sighs.

_It’s not what you think._

_You know, it’s good to remind the staff you’re actually human once in a while._

_I said it’s not what you think. Also, stop bribing my assistant to feed you updates._

_Whatever you say, boss._

Hux puts down his phone, and reaches for the files he needs for the meeting. Would he have minded a night with Kylo of the sort that Phasma implied?

Maybe not.

 

-

 

On a Saturday, Kylo shows up at Hux’s door with two movie tickets to a Lord of the Rings marathon at a cinema downtown.

“How do you know where I live?” is the first thing a bewildered Hux says to him after Kylo finishes his excited explanation.

“I asked Phasma.”

And of course she would simply give away private personal information just like this, Hux thinks, resigned. Yet he can’t find it in him to feel angry when Kylo is smiling like that.

“So do you want to come?” Kylo says, raising the tickets. His tone is cool, but the expression on his face looks almost hopeful.

“You weren’t worried I might have plans?”

“Phasma said you never have plans.”

Hux gapes at him, disgraced. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Kylo replies without a moment’s hesitation. “So, you want to come?”

Hux stares at the tickets. “Fine. I like Lord of the Rings.”

“Everyone likes Lord of the Rings,” Kylo says, laughing.

Hux catches himself smiling back, and finds that he can’t stop.

 

-

 

The movies are exactly as stunning as Hux remembers, and he enjoys himself so much he doesn’t even mind when Kylo’s bumping their knees together at the most thrilling moments.

After, they walk together through the streets, wandering down street-sides and alleyways simply for its own sake. The minutes tick by, and neither of them brings up the thought of going home.

Kylo, Hux finds, when he’s not trapped behind the wheel of his father’s car, can be funny, witty, and so terrifyingly intelligent. He reacts like an excited puppy when confronted with something he likes and puts on the most entertaining expression of discomfort when it’s not, wearing his heart openly on his sleeve in such a way that tears straight through Hux’s defenses. They banter back and forth like they’ve known each other for their whole lives, bickering about every topic from politics to pop culture. Hux thinks vigilante protagonists are wrong for breaking the law, Kylo thinks they’re heroes. Kylo argues a complicated point about current trade policy, and Hux responds that Kylo is illogical and makes no sense whatsoever.

It’s too late when they finally make it back to parking lot, but Hux finds it hard to care. Kylo is drifting closer and closer, slowly pressing Hux against his over-expensive car, and Hux is grinning when Kylo leans forward. His eyes, dark, intense, and so incredibly gorgeous, ignites a fire deep down within. Their breaths mingle, and then, they’re kissing.

Hux’s world shrinks down to this moment, just him and Kylo, touch and taste and warmth. It is somehow the most natural yet the most thrilling thing in the world, being like this. Hux needs it to stop, yet he doesn’t want it to end, not when everything feels like it’s finally sliding into place, and finally, he’s doing something right.

When they pull apart, Hux is dizzy and a little breathless. Kylo stares at him, and takes a heaving breath.

“Well,” Kylo says, swallowing. “Good night.”

He steps away, letting the cold sweep in where there had been heat only moments before, and walks away toward the street. Hux almost asks him to stop, driven by a yearning he hasn’t felt in what seems like an eternity.

He stares at Kylo’s retreating figure, a dark shadow walking toward the light, and wonders if it would truly be such a terrible thing if he falls in love with Kylo Ren.

 

-

 

The entire drive home, Hux can’t stop thinking about the way Kylo’s lips had felt against his, the sweet taste of him, the strength in those arms, and the fingers that had worked its way into his hair. The startling revelation that came with everything in the world suddenly feeling _right_ and _perfect_ and eternal all at the same time.

He feels like a teenager again, driving with a stupid smile on his face, and his thoughts are so distracted, he doesn’t see the other car until it’s too late.

Giddy delight sharpens into fear. With the terrible crunch of metal, the memory of Kylo’s smile twists and warps with crushing pain, and everything dissolves into darkness.

 

-

 

Hux wakes to silence, and stares confusedly at the ceiling panels above him, trying to make sense of where he is. It takes him a second to remember the dark shape of the approaching car, the crash, and the sharp pain that had followed. A hospital, then. Footsteps in the hallway filters through the walls, reassuring his judgement.

The sound of sniffling hits him, and Hux turns his head to find Kylo sitting in a plastic chair next to the bed, wilted like forgotten plant. His eyes are wide and red.

“Hello,” Hux says, frowning. He tries to clear his throat at the scratchy sound of his own voice, and winces at the pain.

At the sound of his voice, Kylo’s head shoots up, his eye growing even wider at the sight of Hux awake.

“What are you doing here?” Hux continues, confused by Kylo’s presence. He doesn’t have him listed as an emergency contact. How did Kylo even find out about his injury?

Kylo just stares at him. “You’re awake.”

Hux stares back, not sure what to make of Kylo’s shock. “Yes?”

Kylo continues to stare, and then, everything seems to click. The chair clatters as Kylo stands up in a rush. “I’ll go get the doctor.”

Hux opens his mouth to stop him, but Kylo has already disappeared through the door.

Letting out a breath, Hux settles against the bed, feeling the numbness in his skull. He has a feeling he should be in pain, and yet he doesn’t seem to feel anything at all.

 

-

 

Later, Hux discovers he had been unconscious for over two days. Though despite the head trauma, the worst of what he suffered from the wreck are only minor sprains and contusions. Kylo seems to disappear after that initial meeting in his room, and in the hours that follow it’s Phasma who stays with him. And while he still catches glimpses of Kylo, he is always gone before Hux can talk to him. Hospital staff, at a loss regarding who to contact, had answered Hux’s phone when it began buzzing, Phasma tells him, and the rest was history. Hux pictures Kylo’s shock and panic, and remembers the red eyes of the man who had sat next to him during his days of unconsciousness.

Though he passes every test the doctors administer to him with flying colors, it is still 48 hours before he is released with his arm in a sling and bandages around his head.

He spends what remains of his week working from home, fielding emails and calls asking after his condition and wishing him a swift recovery. Kylo doesn’t call, but Hux doesn’t let himself think too much of it, certain that things will work out once they see each other again and get a chance to talk about the situation.

Another Sunday arrives, and Hux dresses himself up and shows up outside Kylo’s apartment. Though he’s lost his car, public transport in the city is more than functional enough to get him where he needs to go. Standing in the hallway, Hux knocks three times, and the sound of stumbling and a crash sounds from within. Half a minute later, the door is opened, and Kylo stands half-dressed and staring at Hux like a deer in the headlights.

“Let’s go,” Hux says. “Get dressed.”

Ren doesn’t move. The pause drags on, and his gaze catches Hux’s then flits away. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Hux says, blinking in surprise.

“You got hurt.”

Hux stares, taking a second to make the connection. “I… The car crash? Wait, is this why you haven’t contacted me in the last week?”

“Look, it’s just better if we stay away from each other, okay?”

“I was driving _myself_.”

“It’s just not a good idea, okay? It’s me, I’m fucking cursed.”

Hux can’t believe this is a thing that is happening to him. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You weren’t even in the car!”

“No. No this is what always happens. I try to drive and then _someone_ close to me gets hurt.”

“Kylo,” Hux says, dragging out each syllable, “it was a _coincidence_.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t give a shit,” Kylo is shouting. “That’s it, I’m done. We don’t need to meet anymore, I’m not going to fucking touch another steering wheel.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being smart.”

“You can’t just choose to blame yourself for every accident that happens to someone around you! That’s not how it works!”

“And you can’t control everyone around you and just make them march to your tune whenever you want! Okay? You’re a fucking control freak, you know that? Everyone around you knows.”

“Really? Insults? You’re so fucking mature,” Hux says, anger flaring in the face of Kylo’s provocation. “Not to mention a fucking narcissist and a complete _asshole_.”

“Well fuck you, Hux. Just leave me the fuck alone.” Then, Kylo slams the door shut in Hux’s face.

Of all the bullshit things for Hux to have to face after the week he has just had, this takes the absolute prize. To think he had been excited about this, that he had thought Kylo was actually somehow a mature human being behind his petulance and his odd charm and his downright _stupid_ good looks.

“Hey!” Hux yells, pounding on the door furiously. “Not everything that happens is about _you_!”

He gets no response.

 

-

 

“Your friend Kylo Ren is fucking insane,” Hux says the moment Phasma picks up. He’s out on the busy street, walking back to his apartment in a cold he barely feels due to his rage.

“What did he do now?”

“He decided he never wants to see me again, because my accident is somehow his fault.”

“Argh,” Phasma groans. “It’s because of that thing with his father, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“His father, you know, when he died in an accident while he was teaching Kylo to drive. Didn’t he already tell you?”

Hux had wondered, certainly, he had even suspected it, but the confirmation doesn’t make him feel better about any of the ridiculousness that had just happened.

“So what, he’s developed a pathological victim complex as a result?”

“I… look, driving, car accidents, all of it fucks him up, okay? The kid wasn’t even fifteen when he accidentally killed his own _father_. That sort of thing messes with your head.”

Hux sighs, feeling the onset of a violent headache. “Then what the hell do I do?”

“Well, if you ask me, try talking to him.”

“He just slammed his door in my face, Phasma.”

“Then try later, when he’s not panicking about something he can’t control. You can still go see him even if you’re not teaching him how to drive, you know that right?”

Hux stares at the traffic, suddenly exhausted. “Right.”

 

-

 

A week later, Hux visits Starkiller.

He shows his permanent VIP badge to the bouncer and is let in without a single challenge. The music is pounding in his ears, far too loud, and the dimness makes it hard to see. But Kylo is there, behind the bar, shirtless as expected, though there is not a single speck of glitter on him.

Hux doesn’t even know what he’s doing there. It’s not like they can actually have a conversation over the sound of the music and the demands of a thirsty crowd. But still, he pushes his way to the bar, and waves down an anonymous bartender, ordering himself a shot of whiskey.

He looks across the bar, and Kylo is staring at him with unreadable eyes.

The night drags on, and Kylo avoids Hux for the entire duration of his shift, pushing his coworker to cover whichever side Hux decides to situate himself. Hux goes through drink after drink and fumes in his seat, ignoring the curious interest of several people.

Eventually, Hux leaves, shoving through the crowd toward the exit and feeling like an idiot. That night, he collapses on his bed and falls into miserable sleep.

 

-

 

“You weren’t even dating and you’re acting like you’ve broken up,” Phasma says three days later at work as she slips into the chair next to a frowning Hux. The conference room is mostly clear, as the staff take their leave after the conclusion of a monthly executive meeting.

Hux looks up from his notes, and lets out a breath. “Don’t.”

“You haven’t talked to him?”

“He won’t answer any calls, he won’t answer my texts. I even visited him at his workplace, though that went nowhere.” Hux says, rubbing at his temple. “I’m not sure how much further I can go without turning into a stalker.”

“That’s no reason to give up.”

“He’s sending a pretty clear message, Phasma. I was the one who got into an accident, and _he_ gets to act like a victim!”

“I’m not saying he’s not being shitty, I’m saying you should go talk to him again. The boy has issues, you should have some sympathy.”

“Then what? So he can make everything about himself again? The man is a fucking narcissist and a moron. I don’t even like him. He’s rude, he’s selfish, and he doesn’t give a shit about other people.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Hux opens his mouth, and finds himself flagging. He swallows back the rage and takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm.

“There’s only so much I can do, Phasma.” He looks across the table at his friend, whose expression is sadder than he wants it to be. “I can’t force him to talk if he genuinely doesn’t want to speak to me.”

“So you’re just going to let it go?”

“Yeah,” Hux says, staring at his meeting notes. He needs to review the report from marketing, and prepare for the presentation to the board tomorrow afternoon. There is always so much to do. It’d be better like this, to fall back into work, and the old pattern of things.

This time, it’s Phasma who sighs, and she taps her long fingernails against the table. “I had so much hope for you guys.”

“Well, sometimes things just don’t work out.”

Phasma nods once, and picks up her things. Neither of them say anything as she leaves.

 

-

 

Two weeks pass, and a phone call comes from the care facility. Hux’s father is dead.

 

-

 

That weekend, Hux stands at his father’s graveside in his best suit, surrounded by acquaintances and family members he hasn’t seen in years, feeling numb as the minister makes his funeral speech.

Suddenly, the sound of an engine cuts through the quiet, and the minister’s words are brought to an abrupt stop by as a familiar junk of a car drives wildly up the adjacent road, swerving as it makes its way toward Hux and the gathered mourners. Heads turn, and the crowd watches in shocked silence as the vehicle stops barely thirty feet from the funeral service. The door opens and then slams shut, and Kylo Ren emerges from within with his familiar mop of dark hair. He powers across the grass toward them, eyes downcast, and then stops right across from Hux in front of the grave, never looking up once.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and then falls silent.

The minister hesitantly returns to the eulogy. Hux stares, wide-eyed, as Kylo stands stiffly opposite him, and dabs at what looks like tears from his eyes. He stares at Kylo until the service comes to an end, and a murmur begins to rise in the crowd.

The moment the crowd’s attention drifts, Hux crosses the gap and stops by Kylo’s side without hesitation. “What are you doing here?”

Kylo jolts and whirls to face him. His eyes are red with tears, and he stares at Hux as though he’s staring at a ghost.

Hux, perplexed, looks him over and finds nothing seemingly amiss. “Are you alright?” This is his father’s funeral, yet Kylo looks like it’s his parent who had just died.

“You’re alive,” Kylo murmurs, frozen in shock.

Hux’s brow furrows. “Of course I’m alive, what are you… wait.” Realization hits him as Kylo’s eyes grow wider and wider. Then, laughter bubbles up and Hux fights to keep it contained for fear of scandalizing the guests. “Did you… did you think _I_ was the one who…”

Kylo’s pale skin turns a very interesting shade of pink, and he shrinks in on himself. “Phasma said-”

That there was a funeral, perhaps. A Hux _had_ passed away, though the exact identity of the deceased is another matter entirely.

“You thought I was the one who died?” Hux repeats, awed.

“I’m going to kill her.” Kylo mumbles, staring into the distance. “I have to go.”

Hux watches, speechless, as Kylo flees toward his car, feeling warm in a way he had never expected to on the day of a funeral. He almost starts to follow when family and acquaintances begin to approach him, offering their condolences, and it’s not long before he loses track of Kylo in the swarm of new attention.

 

-

 

After twenty minutes of unbearable platitudes, the crowd finally begins to dissipate. Kylo’s car is still parked where he had left it, and a curious Hux approaches the moment he is free. He finds Kylo sitting hidden behind the vehicle, furiously muttering something under his breath.

“Do you need a hand?” Hux says, examining the miserable old car. It looks just as ancient as it always has, and yet he feels an odd twinge of affection toward it, now that he’s spent so many hours sitting inside with Kylo, listening to the radio.

Kylo glares at him, and sits in sullen silence for a moment before he finally admits his problem. “The car won’t start.”

“Do you need a jump?”

“It’s not the battery.” Kylo’s arms are crossed over his chest, and he glares at the car as if it would save himself from having to face Hux. There’s a vulnerability to him now, it’s always been there, yet Hux has never let himself look deeper behind it.

“I could call you a tow truck,” Hux says. Knowing its sentimental value to Kylo, there’s no way he would want to write it off. “Want a lift?”

Kylo heaves a deep breath, and sighs. “Yes.”

Hux offers a hand and pulls Kylo from the ground. Then, he turns, and Kylo follows. They walk along the gravel road, together past the gravestones, shoulder to shoulder.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kylo says, when the silence begins to weigh too heavy.

Hux glances at him. Kylo looks genuinely upset. “It’s okay,” he says, “it’s not like we were close.”

“You weren’t?”

“How many times have I talked about him, Kylo?” Hux says, raising his brows, offering a small smile that he hopes will take the edge off of his words.

“I just thought…” Kylo’s words taper into silence. “Huh.”

Hux smiles, but doesn’t say anything more. An abusive parent and an unhappy childhood is hardly a newsworthy story in this day and age. His mother had died before he was old enough to remember her, and now, he’s free of the specter that has haunted him for his entire life.

At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself. The details are not important, not right now.

 

-

 

“So you really thought I was dead?” Hux says, once they’re finally in his new car, speeding down the city streets. He drives more carefully now, slowing before intersections and checking more times than necessary before pulling onto a new road. Sometimes, his heart would begin to race when he catches sight of a black car in his periphery vision, but he grits his teeth and bears it.

“Yeah.”

“You seemed upset.”

Hux’s words are met with silence, and he hides a smile as he pokes harder.

“I mean, you drove all the way here without a license.”

Kylo still gives no response, and Hux settles into quiet, content with his victory. Whatever he may have said, he does care, after all. And the lack of a defensive denial only adds to Hux’s growing delight.

“What I said the other day.” Kylo breaks the silence two blocks down the road. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay,” Hux replies easily, “I didn’t mean what I said either.”

For a short while, no one says anything more.

“You are a little controlling though.”

Hux bursts out laughing. “And you are an _asshole_.”

Kylo merely shrugs at his response. “So, do you want to go out and grab a drink sometime?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“You told me you never wanted to see me again.”

“Well. I don’t know. I _might_ have over-reacted at the time.”

“You think?”

“Look, just say it if you’re not interested anymore, okay? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Hux hides a smirk, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. “Okay, let’s get a drink.”

“Really?” Kylo says, perking up perceptibly.

“Yeah, if it ends badly I can always fire you.”

A pause. “What are you talking about?”

“The club you work at, I own it.”

“What.”

“Starkiller, it’s one of my investments.”

This time, when Hux glances across the car again, Kylo is gaping.

“Just how rich are you?”

“Don’t tell me you’re just in it for my money.”

“Well it’s certainly not for your charm.”

Hux glares, but Kylo only grins in response, the edges of his eyes crinkling. It makes Hux want to kiss him all over again.

 

-

 

On the sixth month anniversary of their first meeting, Kylo appears out of nowhere in their apartment, and crowds Hux against the kitchen counter.

“What are you-” Hux flails, the half-chopped vegetables forgotten as Kylo noses at him, peppering him with kisses on his cheek, on his neck. He finds himself being turned around, and has to brace himself against the counter so Kylo’s weight doesn’t snap him in half.

Kylo is smirking, and he raises a hand, flashing the piece of plastic he’s holding.

“You passed?” Hux says, eyes wide with shock.

“I passed!”

He presses a kiss to Hux’s lips, and wraps his arms so tight around him Hux can’t breathe. They’re laughing.

“What was that?” Kylo says, his tone accusing in between stubborn kisses. “You’re not supposed to be surprised.”

“Well as your driving instructor…” He’s silenced with another long, lingering kiss, his cruel judgements lost between Kylo’s lips.

Millicent is meowing loudly at their feet, rubbing against Kylo as she demands attention.

“Okay, now go dice the chicken,” Hux says when they finally pull apart, their breathing heavy.

“But…” Kylo’s face falls. “We haven’t celebrated.”

“We will,” Hux says, raising his knife to make a point. “After dinner.”

Kylo makes an exaggerated face of disappointment and steps back. Then he bends and scoops Millicent into his arms, walking away while murmuring to the cat about betrayal.

Hux returns to the vegetables with a grin. He's barely raised his knife when his phone buzzes on the counter. He puts down his knife and reaches for it, finding a waiting text from Phasma.

_So I think the cat café is next on the to ‘do’ list._

_Was that a pun?_ Hux texts back. _I’m disappointed, Phasma._

_I was thinking, we could call it ‘First Order Coffee’. Fill it with cats and cute waitresses, it’d be a hit._

_I’ll think about it._

_:D_

Hux puts his phone down. But then, a thought strikes him, and he picks it up again to do something he’s been meaning to for a long time.

_Thanks, by the way._

_What for? ;D_

_I mean it._

_Do I get a raise?_

_Don’t push it._

_:C_

Hux smirks, and puts away his phone. From behind him, music begins to blare, it’s Kylo’s favorite rock band, singing about memories.

“Alright, where’s the chicken?” Kylo announces as he reappears in the kitchen. “I am ready.”

“Then get a knife and get to it.”

Kylo, the model boyfriend, obeys without question.

 

-

 

That night, they fall asleep with their limbs tangled, and their fingers intertwined.

Hux hides his smile against Kylo’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [this gorgeous comic](https://ingu.tumblr.com/post/145284500868/bona-mana-a-scene-from-ingus-lovely-fic) by bona-mana.
> 
> Loosely inspired by both 'This is Where I Leave You' and [PCH](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjSrWX7_7BY) by Jaden Smith, I hope you enjoyed!


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